My great hopes to finally go under 5 hours at this year’s Ironcross are slipping away, I’m afraid. I’ve let the months before the race get away from me.
I’d hoped to lay the base miles in while on vacation in New Hampshire in August, but a crash laid waste to those plans and I lost two weeks on the bike. I finally started riding again in early September, but my promotion to business editor of The Virginian-Pilot put me in charge as the housing crisis and credit crunch hobbled financial markets creating one of the most difficult times for our economy since the Great Depression. I’ve spent more than a few 12-hour days in the office and haven’t ridden but once during week the past three weeks aside from back and forth from the newspaper. I’ve ridden some on the weekends, including two longish rides in New Kent County on a mix of tarmac and gravel roads courtesy of Danbo; however, my Saturday rides have been cut short by either the girls’ soccer or rain.
A week out from Ironcross, my body worn down my long hours at work, I’m now sick with a head cold. I did ride 30 yesterday before Ellie’s soccer game (she scored six goals! a double hat trick and won 6-3), but I’m laying low today. Don’t want to exacerbate things.
Meanwhile, despite the best laid plans, my cross bike remains uncoverted to Ironcross gearing. I need to either put a compact crankset on the front or switch the cassette and derailleur off my mountain bike. I also need to retape the bars. And I’m just feeling slackadaisical.
But I am going. Hoping that I’ll feel better by the weekend. I’ll try my best. Maybe some of the form from this summer is still down there somewhere.